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The girl shivered and lifted her head, as from some part of the hotel there drifted the wonderful desert love-song which begins: "My love for thee is as the sun at noon " Then she looked at the man whose face she had not plainly seen in the passing of the hour. "How am I to believe you?
He plumped down on the grass as he spoke, took out a large bandana handkerchief and mopped his brow with an air of resignation, while Ronald fumbled awkwardly in his pocket. "I have several pencil copies. I think you can make them out. This is the latest. A Madrigal `To my Lady." "Love-song?" "Yes." "Ever been in love?" "No." "What a pity when charming poets sing of things they don't understand!
Your affectionate friend, Donald MacDonald. Sun hath sunk in radiant splendor, Now the colors fade away And the moon, with light more tender, Sheds its silver on the bay. Eventide is softly casting O'er the earth a magic spell, And a love-song, everlasting, On the night wind seems to swell.
Lulled by the snoring of the kites they snore like over-gorged humans I drop off into an uneasy doze, conscious that three o'clock has struck, and that there is a slight a very slight coolness in the atmosphere. The city is absolutely quiet now, but for some vagrant dog's love-song. Nothing save dead heavy sleep. Several weeks of darkness pass after this. For the Moon has gone out.
Then his fluttering wings close, and he drops from a height of perhaps forty or fifty feet, to alight again on his original perch and resume his tender serenade, singing now in a sweet, dreamy way, sounding just like a ripple of moonlit water looks. This love-song of the goldfinch is the climax of the summer's bird-song. If there were none other, the summer would be worth while.
The blackbird was silent, but a thrush this time broke in with his jubilant love-song, while Winsome, with her love-song laid against a dewy cheek, paused to listen with a beating heart and a new comprehension: "Hear! hear! hear! Dear! dear! dear! Far away, far away, far away, I saw him pass this way, Tirrieoo, tirrieoo! so tender and true, Chippiwee, chippiwee, oh, try him and see!
Lightly he passed over the wooden bridge, preceded by Max, and merrily, when he had gained the other side of the bridge, came upon Kenelm's ear, through the hush of the luminous night, the verse of the uncompleted love-song, "Singing, singing, Lustily singing, Down the road, with his dogs before, Came the Ritter of Nierestein." Love-song, uncompleted; why uncompleted?
Perplexing it may be to some extent, for it was almost impossible to tell whether Browning would or would not be perplexing even in a love-song or a post-card. But cynicism is a word that cannot possibly be applied with any propriety to anything that Browning ever wrote.
Theos leaned forward breathlessly, his pulses beating with unwonted rapidity, . . what.. WHAT was it that Sah-luma sang? ... A Love-song! in those caressing vowel-sounds which composed the language of Al-Kyris, . . a love-song, burning as strong wine, tender as the murmur of the sea on mellow, moon-entranced evenings, an arrowy shaft of rhyme tipped with fire and meant to strike home to the core of feeling and there inflict delicious wounds! ... but, as each well-chosen word echoed harmoniously on his ears, Theos shrank back shuddering in every limb, . . a black, frozen numbness seemed to pervade his being, an awful, maddening terror possessed his brain and he felt as though he were suddenly thrown into a vast, dark chaos where no light should ever shine!
Dame Quickly's account of Falstaff's death touches at once the heights of humor and the depths of pathos. At the close of "Mrs. Bathurst," the tragic narrative is interrupted by the passage of a picnic-party singing a light love-song.
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